Act Like You Love Me (Jessica) novel Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Jessica’s POV

The elevator whooshed open, depositing us on what seemed like an upper terrace level. The air was cooler and fresher up here.

Aaron pushed through a set of elegant double doors, and I froze, my jaw dropping at the sight beyond.

A huge rooftop garden spread out before us. String lights twinkling like stars caught in vines over wooden pergolas, a long banquet table piled high with food that looked straight out of a royal magazine.

Family members wandered around in clusters, chatting and laughing, glasses tinkling, and kids zipping between legs.

The city skyline twinkled in the distance, but up here, it was a private paradise, alive with warmth and noise.

My stomach knotted tighter. Crowds always made me uneasy, and tonight, the weight of unfamiliar faces and the noise pressed in on me.

Instinctively, I moved closer to Aaron. He must’ve sensed my nerves because his grip on my hand tightened

The first to spot us was Tabitha, Aaron’s mom, a face I remembered vividly from childhood.

She was the kind of woman people called a saint: graceful, elegant, the one who handed out food baskets during Christmas and Easter, smiling at everyone like we were equals.

Back then, I’d watch her from afar and think–she was exactly the kind of woman my mom might have been, if life hadn’t taken her too soon.

The thought stung my chest, but I shoved it down.

“Aaron! My boy!” she squealed, weaving through the crowd with open arms, her flowy dress swirling like petals.

His younger sister, Aria, trailed right behind. She was tall and striking now, probably 16 or 17, a far cry from the gangly10–year–old I remembered with pigtails who used to chase after kids on her expensive bikes.

She had Aaron’s eyes, the same honey–brown warmth that could both calm and burn.

They enveloped him in hugs, Tabitha cupping his face and planting kisses all over it while Aria squeezed his arm, chattering about how much taller he seemed.

Aaron grumbled, trying to pull away with a half–hearted groan. “Mom, come on–stop. I’m not a kid anymore.”

She laughed, ruffling his hair. “You’ll always be my baby, no matter how big you get.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was a softness there, a reluctant smile that made my heart ache, I’d never had that never felt a parent’s fussing affection, only watched from the sidelines as Dad lavished it on my step-

I stood there quietly with my hands clasped, feeling like an intruder in a scene that wasn’t meant for me. But Aaron never let go of my hand. Even while hugging them, he kept me close.

When Tabitha finally stepped back, her gaze shifted to me, narrowing slightly in recognition.

“I know you…”

I smiled faintly. “Good evening, ma’am. I’m Jessica Reid.”

Her eyes widened, then sparkled with memory.

“Jessica! Oh, darling, how are you?” She pulled me into a warm hug, her rose perfume enveloping me like a comforting cloud, soft and floral. It felt genuine, disarming, and for a second, I let myself lean in.

When she released me, her hands lingered on my arms, eyes roaming with a mother’s appraisal.

“Look at you! All grown up and absolutely beautiful. It’s been… what, a hundred years?”

She laughed, the sound light and infectious, and I chuckled along.

“Nice seeing you too,” I said softly.

“And what are you doing here… with Aaron?” she asked, her brow arched in disbelief, her gaze flickering between us. “Last I remember, you two couldn’t stand each other. You were like cats and dogs, always clawing and snapping.”

Aaron squeezed my hand, and pulled me closer.

“Well, things change, Mom. She’s my girlfriend now.”

Tabitha’s mouth fell open, hand flying to her chest in dramatic shock.

“What? Oh my….”

“Did you say girlfriend?” The voice sliced through, dripping with disbelief.

We both whipped around to find Fiona sauntering closer, dressed in a slinky number that screamed “look at me“-plunging neckline barely containing her ample breasts, blonde hair swept into an elegant bun, makeup flawless and sharp.

She swirled a wine glass by the stem, her eyes scraping over me with straight–up hate.

Aaron’s arm tightened around me, his hand settling possessively on my hip, pulling me closer against his side.

His face stayed neutral, his brown eyes flat as he scanned her, no emotion leaking through. But his fingers dug into my skin just a bit too hard, like he was holding on for dear life.

His action screamed he was still affected, still hung up on her, and damn, I’d be lying if it didn’t tear my heart apart, leaving it raw and bleeding,

Her gaze bored into me first, then flicked up to Aaron.

The way she looked at him, all smug confidence, like she could peel back his layers and spot the cracks… it screamed she knew he was still tangled up in her web, still nursing that old hangover from their mess.

“Come on, Aaron,” she drawled, her voice syrupy sweet but laced with venom, swirling her wine glass lazily. “You could do so much better. I mean, from me… to this?”

Her gaze raked me again, her lips curling like I’d offended her just by existing.

woman.”

Damn, Papi. Heat rushed through me at the sound of his voice and that look in his eyes.

Not the time, Jess, my mind warned, but my body clearly hadn’t gotten the memo.

She yanked free, rubbing her wrist with a glare, but I just stood there in the corner of his shadow, forcing a smug smile to mask the tremor in my legs.

Fiona’s eyes locked on me again, nodding with evil intent, like she’d uncovered buried treasure.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you? I know your type. You’ve wanted him all those years while we were together. You just waited for a chance to crawl into his life.”

She paused, eyes raking over me again.

“Well, newsflash, sweetheart, he still loves me. You’re just a tool for his bed and my jealousy.”

I rolled my eyes at her jab, but damn if a tiny doubt didn’t prick me anyway. Was there truth in that “you’re just a tool.”

Aaron hadn’t touched me like that. No real kisses–just the occasional brush of his hand on mine or at my waist, always for some reasonable excuse.

Hell, we hadn’t even shared a proper hug.

Maybe I was a tool for jealousy, not for his urges. That, I could believe.

But then again… late at night, alone in my bed, fantasizing about him, moaning his name into my pillow… Would that count as him using me?

He’d snuck into my heart like a thief, squatting there rent–free, wrecking me from the inside out while he stayed clueless.

Aaron’s jaw clenched tight, a muscle ticking under his skin. “Don’t blame her, Fiona.” His voice was low, and sharp.

“You cheated. You kissed my cousin, hopped on him like our whole future–the plans we busted our asses for -meant jack shit to you. So don’t stand here playing the innocent victim card.”

Her gray eyes flared, a flash of real hurt and regret cracking through before she slapped on that fake composure, her chin lifting defiantly.

Right on cue, Eric, Aaron’s cousin, sauntered up, all tall and cocky in his sharp suit, like he owned the rooftop.

“What’s all this?” he asked, slinging an arm around Fiona’s waist possessively.

His gaze ping–ponged between us with a smirk that screamed he was loving the drama, sniffing for blood like a shark in shallow water.

The air turned thick, heavy with unspoken words. I squeezed Aaron’s hand harder, my palm sweaty now, heart thumping as I wondered if this blowup was just the warmup for whatever hell was coming next.